No more
by Shadow Kid Vince
Summary: A boy wanders, not knowing where to turn once his father is killed. Soon he finds a secret, and a path. His jouney is only beginning. My first attempt.


The usually busy streets paused for awhile in the rain. Traffic moved along, but the walkers now all stopped to witness something. Enclosed in the swarm were three figures. One lie on the ground. Deep cuts were scattered, his arms, his legs, his chest, and one final one across his neck. Blood gathered around his blood and threatened the watchers as it slowly moved along the sidewalk.  
  
A horrible laugh came from a second man. His right hand lied in his pocket, concealing the device which brought down another victim this day, and was looking for another. "Your father is quite stupid boy. If you live past today, maybe you can right this flaw in your family."  
  
"There is no family left."  
  
"Blame your father." The man lunged forward and with a huge fist, knocked the third figure back.  
  
A boy, no older than 10, now lied next to his deceased father. His blond hair wet and ruffled from the blow and his eyes stay shut. His mind told him to get up, but his body refused. The body refused to listen to this child. He then felt someone lift him, not the hands that brought pain, but a womans. He looked up with an open eye and she smiled at him. One second she stared back, with faith in her eyes. The next .........  
  
"This boy can fight for himself," the man said as he pulled the knife out of the woman's skull. Her body went limp and crashed to the pavement.  
  
An anger rose in the child. An anger he never experienced. It took away all his sadness, pain, weakness, and just rage remained. His eye's turned blood red.  
  
"Ready to resume now are we?" the man backed away more. "Right," he charged again, slightly moving his right hand.  
  
The rage in the boy rose and rose, every second he saw this man it boiled up in him. His eyes flashed green as the man got closer. "SHADOW WAVE"  
  
.......................  
  
Silence. Darkness. He tried to stand. He tried to stand. Once again, his body wouldn't listen. The rain became painful on his body. Drops pelted him in the head and arms. He knew he lived, but how? He tried to open his eyes. All he saw was a blur. Everything was still in the blur. Nothing changed.  
  
Finally a figure moved forward. A hand closed his eyes. He rested again. Whispers surrounded him, and he drifted back into sleep.  
  
As he dreamed, he saw a horrible scene. The ground was ripped apart. Bodies lie everywhere. Some moving, more not. The building behind them all had a hole. He could see through it to the other street. People past by and gaped through. And that horrible man. In two pieces. Both sides of his face were fixed in a state of horror.  
  
  
  
Five years passed. Five long years. Training, understanding, living. I've seen many people and traveled. I can't remember it all. Just two things. That day, which I go over in my dreams night after night. And the one who took care of me afterwards.  
  
"How did you do that?" she asked me one night. I turned to her with a puzzled look. We never talked about that day. I couldn't remember most of it anyway. My father was killed, I survived. And his face, the man who tried to murder me as well. The face rushed at me in the dreams and awoke me everytime. "The way you beat that killer, I mean." She stared back down at her food, dejected.  
  
"My father use to always say I was special. When it came to that fight, I forgot it all. He needed me to help him, but I couldnt move. When it was my time to take him on, I waited. Nothing was left for me to lose. Until I saw those eyes. Filled with a hope for me. When that hope was gone, I was drained," my eyes didn't leave my plate as I spoke. "But something filled me, and took over. I must find out what it was. I will be leaving."  
  
Her hands let the silverware drop, and she looked up. I stared back at her as she moved to make a word. Nothing came out. Her eyes filled with tears. I couldn't help but cry as well. She walked over and held me tightly. That was the last I would cry. She tucked me in that night, the same way my dad did. She kissed me on the forehead afterwards, still with tears in her eyes.  
  
As a child, I didn't know where to go. I didn't know how to get there either. I left that night, and headed down the street. I thought of turning back, saying I'm sorry. Living there for the rest of my life. I had questions though. And needed answers before I could settle.  
  
A year later I was taken in as a worker at a restaurant. I got weird looks from everyone as I served them. Saying I was the owner's son got rid of those looks. I sort of was his son, he let me eat and sleep. But work was the price I had to pay. By night I would practice. This child would be a fighter. The boy who gave up his age and heart to train. Something inside told me that fighting was it. Whatever helped me beat that murderer told me, I'm a fighter.  
  
I got no closer to the answers there, but I got better. Threw the cold and warmth I trained. Rain, snow, hale, nothing would stop me. One day, a stranger walked up to me and asked to spar. He was good. Really good. I gained a few pointers, as well as some food. We talked over lunch. He liked to listen. When there was nothing more for me to say, he offered me one piece of advice. "Starting looking outside rather than inside yourself." He threw me his hat and walked away.  
  
A confused child now walked streets and alleyways. My training was on hold until I could figure this out. What had he meant? Did he know what I was looking for? Was I looking for something? My head filled with questions as I moved on. At first I thought it was my feet that guided me. When I stopped, nothing in my body was responsible. All around me, I felt what pulled me here.  
  
An old building stood before me. In this thick forest resided a building, a sort of mansion. An aroma filled me and quickly left. It awoke me to the surroundings. When did I enter the forest my mind wailed, but quickly backed off. The scent made me forget everything. I sat in front of the building, and something called to me. Told me to sleep. Soon I would understand all. So I listened, and slept.  
  
My dream, I now saw it all. The death of my father. Being cut up by that brutal man. Then his attention turned to me. I had snapped, and the aroma was there, guiding me. Told me to hang onto it. Gather it inside of me. As I was charged, it told me to release. I thrust a fist at the ground and let the energy blaze through my arm through the ground. A path of destruction ripped the ground apart. Ripped through him. Ripped through the building and left. I then passed out.  
  
I still stood outside the building. No one ever came here. I learned all the secrets of the area. How to control this outside energy was now as easy as breathing to me. I could make it do what I willed it to. It was both a weapon and savior. I could use it as food as well as a device to move faster, jump higher. Never once did it drain from here.  
  
And yet, I never stepped foot in there. I was always on the perimeter, never moved inside the building though. It was a temple to me. I knew there was something special about it. It had taught me everything, yet I not dare to disturb it. I don't plan on leaving it either. I sat feeling the energy surge through me. It felt just as good as the first day it happened.  
  
"You there…." A voice shouted out from behind me. I stood and turned to face it. Whoever it was, their features were hidden by the thick shadows of the forest. I tried to connect with the energy again, to see if it could reveal this stranger to me.  
  
A person walked out of the shadows and stopped in the clearing. "What are you doing here?" she asked me softly. Her red hair was all I could see at this distance.  
  
"Training, what are you doing here?" I sat back down and invited her to sit next to me.  
  
"I…..I'm," her voice got nearer as she spoke, "I sort of found this area not too long ago. And saw you sitting there. I came back as much as I could, to see what you were doing." She stood next to me and looked at me. "How old are you?" she asked,  
  
"I," I paused trying to remember. These last few years, how old was I? "I can't remember."  
  
"Well, what's your name?"  
  
What was my name? I had no use for one. Then the energy told me. Tell her your name Ken.  
  
"My name," I paused to think if that was right, "is Ken." 


End file.
